


Silhouette Dreams- A Captain Swan Story

by ratchgriff



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Captain Swan - Freeform, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2016-03-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 18:26:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5508182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratchgriff/pseuds/ratchgriff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma Swan meets Killian Jones, and there begins the epic tale of love, loss, and redemption. Through their love, both grow in ways they could never have thought possible...but love proves to be more than just shared kisses and sweet words. Emma and Killian struggle to find their places in the world, and with each other. Love has never been so beautifully tragic, or so terribly brutal. When the world wants nothing more than to rip two people apart, do they have the power and strength to overcome?</p><p>***This fic began as a Christmas short, but it has been adapted into a story line.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ho Ho Ho and A Bottle of Rum?

**Author's Note:**

> I will be periodically editing this work for grammatical reasons AND for content. I appreciate any and all feedback! The readers craft the story along with the author, so if you have any insight into how the story should be altered or continued, please don't hesitate to talk to me about it. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy.

“Tis the season to be drunk is more like it,” Emma muttered as she handed some crumbled fives towards the cashier. The man was covered head to toe in Christmas décor. She resisted the urge to scowl at him.  
  
“Thanks for shopping with us. And have a Merry Christmas!” he shouted at her. Rolling her eyes, Emma swiped the bottle off the counter and rushed out of the store. Once safely inside her yellow Bug, she uncaped the bottle with eagerness and took a swig. And another.  
  
“Damn this holiday,” she muttered to herself. Not a single radio station was playing anything other than that cheery, jingle bell crap that only reminded her of how glaringly non-cheery she was. Sighing, she started the car and proceeded back to her tiny apartment and her all-too-festive roommate, Mary Margaret. Emma loved her like a sister, but nothing could make her enjoy this day. It only reminded her of the childhood she never had and the family she never would.  
  
As she pulled her Bug into her parking space she mentally prepared herself for the ensuing pep talk she was sure Mary Margaret had in store. Each year it was the same thing- to enjoy the family she had made with her and David, to bring down her walls so she could find love, blah blah blah. Emma was beyond grateful to have those two lovebirds in her life, but she couldn’t help but feel like an imposter. Imposing on their movie nights, their lunches, even their shower sex (Emma had accidentally walked in on them, not knowing David had spent the night. The image was seared into her brain. She had the same reoccurring nightmare for weeks afterwards. It took a long time before she could even use the shower again.)  
  
Taking a deep breath, Emma pushed the door open and heard someone rummaging around in the kitchen. “I don’t want to hear it this year Mary Margaret! I’m content with my walls and my deep loathing for Christmas. I’ll be lounging on the couch and cuddling with my bottle of Jack while watching reruns and eating takeout. Tell David I said hi.” Feeling more than satisfied, Emma plopped onto the couch while her lips found the bottle again. Hearing footsteps approaching her, she swiveled around on the couch, only to meet deep blue eyes that made her eyebrows raise and mouth open. Quickly composing herself, she scrambled over the couch and approached the devilishly handsome stranger.  
  
“Okay, who the hell are you and why are you in my apartment?” Emma inspected the man, noticing his hair was gelled in a manner that appeared to be disheveled, but purposefully so. His eyes, still piercingly-blue, were highlighted by a touch of black liner that she found surprisingly sexy. His skin was a beautiful olive color that Emma admired. Dressed in a red plaid button down and jeans, you could tell he was muscular. She noticed a little bit of his midriff was exposed, tempting and- Nope, Emma thought to herself. He’s a stranger, nothing more.  
  
“Sorry love, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he said in a voice that was rough and smooth like honey all at once. He held his hands- er, hand and prosthetic, Emma noted- up to show he meant no harm. “I’m a friend of David’s. Him and Mary Margaret invited, or more like dragged me over. Something about no one should be alone on Christmas. They went out to get some more wine. But it doesn’t seem like you’ll need any of that, considering,” he nodded to the bottle she was holding.  
  
Feeling herself turn red, Emma put the bottle on the table and walked past him into the kitchen. “Well that sounds like them. Would’ve been nice to get a heads up though.” She noticed eggs and flour sitting out next to a preheating oven. “Are you…are you baking something?”  
  
“Aye. Cookies, chocolate chip to be precise. You’re welcome to them…that is if you want any after your takeout.” He grinned, and Emma felt a little weak in the knees.  
  
“Oh, right, I guess you heard that.”  
  
“Nothing to be ashamed of lass. I’m not a big fan of this time of year myself.” He started cracking some eggs and Emma felt herself relax a little. Noting to chew Mary Margaret out later for conveniently forgetting to mention that a handsome friend of David’s would be over, she opened her bottle again and took another sip. Sitting on the counter behind him, she admire the backside of him. His hair, his shoulders, his ass…she had to practically drag her eyes away from him.  
  
“So, what’s your name?”  
  
“Killian. Killian Jones. And you’re Emma Swan, I take it? David said you might make it back before them. Warned me not to frighten you if I wanted to keep my other hand,” he laughed and looked over his shoulder at her while whisking the eggs. “Suppose he was right- you’re a bit jumpy, love.”  
  
“It’s my job to be jumpy- I’m the sheriff. Gotta be on my toes.” She hopped off the counter and went to the fridge. Lettuce, apples, a bit of pie…she closed the door and sighed. “There’s never anything good to eat in this house.”  
  
“Here, try this.” Killian walked over to her with a spoon of what appeared to be cookie dough. Not wanting to oppose, Emma extended her hand, but instead he popped the spoon into her mouth. Taken by surprise, Emma’s eyes widened and Killian burst into laughter. His laugh made her feel blissfully unaware of anything and everything around them. In an effort to regain her composure, she focused on the food she was supposed to be chewing, which was surprisingly delicious. She moaned in an effort to compliment his job well done, but it ended up sounding a bit more sexual than she intended.  
  
With one eyebrow raised, Killian was still chuckling at her. “You missed a bit,” he said as his thumb brushed the side of her mouth and bottom lip. He licked his thumb, moaned back in appreciation (and a bit of mockery), and then turned back to the batter. “You are amusing, Swan.”  
  
“Glad you think so highly of me,” she responded, smiling and blushing all at once. She watched as he rolled the dough in his hand, which was beautiful. Long, nimble fingers accessorized with rings with red jewels knowingly shaped the soon-to-be cookies. “How did you learn to bake?”  
  
He turned to her and smiled. “After my hand was lost, there was much I couldn’t do. I had to say goodbye to a lot of the things I loved in life. But my doctor recommended cooking. Said it didn’t take two hands if you were skilled enough. So I took a few classes and, well, here we are.” He put the last ball of dough onto the tray and slid it into the oven. “Shouldn’t be long now. Come,” he grabbed her hand and led her to the kitchen table. Sitting across from her, he stared at her for what seemed to be like hours, but was in reality only seconds.  
  
“So tell me, why do you hate Christmas?” The question was fair, but Emma was unsure how much to reveal about herself, considering she had just met him.  
  
“It’s a long story, but to sum it up, my family gave me up and it’s basically just a big reminder of how unwanted I am.” She looked away from Killian, nervously playing with the table cloth, waiting for a response.  
  
“Was,” he said softly.  
  
“Sorry?”  
  
“Was. You said that you are unwanted, but that’s not true. Even if you were unwanted as a child, that’s no longer a problem.” Emma’s heart fluttered. She knew he was talking about Mary Margaret and David, but still, hearing him say those words affected her.  
  
“Thank you,” she whispered, meeting his gaze. He grabbed her hand and squeezed. Just then, the door opened as Mary Margaret and David walked in, only to be stopped in their tracks as they absorbed the scene before their eyes. Killian and Emma frantically disentangled themselves, but it was too late. They knew the rest of the night would be filled with sly, subtle remarks from the couple. To avoid any girl talk Mary Margaret was plotting, Emma yawned.  
  
“I’m gonna head off to bed guys. Merry Christmas. Nice to meet you Killian.”  
  
“The pleasure was all mine love. Sweet dreams.” Emma practically ran to her room. Throwing herself on the bed, she couldn’t help but giggle and smile like a love-struck teenager. And just for a minute, she forgot about being an unwanted orphan on Christmas. Her mind was focused on a gorgeous man with godly cheekbones and delicious scruff who had an accent that could make her squirm whenever he called her “love.” Yeah, Christmas might suck, but this one wasn’t that bad.  
  
Especially when Killian stumbled into her room a few hours later with a now-empty bottle of Jack in his hand and a look of such intensity and lust that made her stomach flip.


	2. The First Crack

“K-Killian?” Emma whispered into the darkness of her bedroom. Indeed it was Killian, but a much less sober one. Suddenly very self-aware, Emma looked down at her pajamas- a Granny’s sweatshirt and a not-so-sexy pair of boyshorts with little red hearts. Great.

“God, Swan, you’re bloody beautiful, you know that?” Killian walked, or rather stumbled towards the bed. Sitting at the foot of the bed with as much grace as he could muster, Killian held Emma’s empty Jack bottle up to her. “Sorry ‘bout the liquor. Mary Margaret didn’t want you to come out later and drink by yourself. Said she didn’t want you to get in the habit of drinking alone,” he grinned. “I, being the alcohol-loving scoundrel that I am, just couldn’t say no.” He leaned towards her, placing the bottle on her nightstand, his eyes never leaving hers as he did. She smelled the liquor on his breath, but it couldn’t mask his cologne, which Emma found intoxicating. The little space left between them buzzed with electricity. Emma felt like she was gravitating towards him, towards his lips.

Clearing her throat, and her mind, she leaned back up against the headboard. “It’s okay, I can just pick some more up tomorrow.” Killian’s face fell slightly, but he kept the cheery tone in his voice.

“Nonsense. A gentleman would be sure to replace the liquor. Lucky for you, I am,” he licked his lips absent-mindedly and winked. Emma crossed her legs to suppress the yearning feeling that was building in her abdomen. She reminded herself that he was practically a stranger, a drunk stranger, with whom she would not be sleeping with tonight, or any other night.

Just as this thought came to her, Killian leaned forward. He left only centimeters between his lips and hers. Emma couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to taste him, kiss him, caress him. “Tell me you don’t want to, and I won’t,” Killian mumbled, barely audible. “Tell me to leave and I will. Or tell me to stay. All the passion and attention you so deserve, love, I’ll give it to you. And then some.” 

Heart racing, Emma didn’t trust her brain to form words. It was as if there were two voices in her head, one cautioning her not to engage, and the other…well, the other felt differently. Much differently. It had been so long since Emma had been with anyone, and she wasn’t sure if she was ready after what happened with Neal. But feeling Killian’s breath on her cheek made such thoughts weak and feeble at best. Although they had just met, Emma had this unexplainable connection with him. He was drunk, yes, but she saw the honesty in his eyes, the affection…she blinked once, slowly, and opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Instead, she simply reached out and twisted her fingers in his hair, and that was the end of it. With a low groan in his throat, Killian pulled Emma onto his lap, meeting her mouth with more than enthusiasm. Their hands roamed all over one another, searching, pulling, wandering. Emma was lost in him. Kissing him felt right; she felt complete with him pressing against her. She could not get enough of him, and she worried she never would. Killian was the first to pull away, panting and smirking at her. 

“I’ve got to say Swan, your kiss is one I won’t soon forget.” He lightly grazed her arm with his hand. She shivered in response, and he grinned mischievously. “I like seeing you like this. More…” he observed her for a moment. “More open, I think. More in touch with yourself.”

She laughed quietly, aware that Mary Margaret or David could easily overhear them. “You are something else, Killian Jones. I’m always in touch with myself.”

His eyebrows raised in response. “Is that so Swan? Well you won’t mind if I become more in touch with you then?” As he asked the question, his hand began to slide down her stomach and traced the hem of her underwear. Emma arched her back and bit her lip to stifle a moan. 

“No, no, I want to hear you,” he breathed against her neck. Emma moaned again. His hand was teasing her, fingertips barely slipping into her, and then retreating. She clawed at his back, whimpering for more, for him. He obliged, cautiously. He kissed down her neck, across her waist, meeting her underwear with his teeth, and then slowly, oh so slowly pulling it down with his teeth. Emma didn’t know how much more teasing and tempting she could take. Once her underwear was removed entirely, Killian leaned back for a moment to survey her, lying in front of him, naked and panting and wanting. He kissed her once, softly, tenderly, and then slide a finger into her. Grabbing the sheets in her fists, Emma pushed against his hand, needing more of him inside of her. Another finger entered, and then another. Emma was beginning to see stars, feeling her body building higher and higher.

“Killian, please,” she gasped. He knew she was close, and as his tongue entered her, she fell over the edge. Her body was alive with him, coming around him, spiraling down into a blissful nothingness that only they shared. When she had finished, Killian laid with his head on her chest. Both were breathing heavily, both afraid to break the illusion of that moment. At last, Emma put her fingers into his hair again, and he sighed in pleasure. 

“It seems you have found my weakness,” he mumbled against her skin. She smiled in the dark, running her fingers through his hair, replaying what had just happened in her head. They laid like that for a while, but it was Killian who was the first to move. Shifting onto his elbows, he looked at Emma almost…sheepishly? Behind thick, dark, wonderful lashes, his eyes captured hers. “I hope none of that was…I mean, I hope I did not force myself upon you in any way. I was bit intoxicated, and I know that-“  
“Stop, stop Killian, you did nothing of the sort. Trust me, I wanted to. Just as much as you did.” Her answer had him smiling with such a goofy grin that Emma couldn’t help but giggle. Laying his head back onto her stomach, he nuzzled and kissed her navel.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you, love,” he sleepily sighed. “And frankly, I don’t want to.”

As she drifted off to sleep, Emma focused on Killian’s breathing. Soft and rhythmic, it lulled her into the most restful sleep she had had in years. She dreamed of him. Destroying her walls. Killian had somehow created a tiny crack that would soon enough bring them all down, and while she dreamed, she was both astounded and terrified.


	3. Redemption Pancakes

Emma awoke to find her bed quite empty without Killian. The hard shock of his absence brought her to tears, which she quickly suppressed and dismissed. Surveying the room, she noticed all traces of him were gone. No shirt, no pants, not even the empty liquor bottle. With a shake of her head, she stood up and proceeded to the bathroom. “Deja vu. How stupid am I,” she thought, “to have ever believed he would have stayed. That he was actually interested. Stupid, stupid, stupid.” Glancing in the mirror, she was horrified to find a rather large, purplish hickey glowing on her neck. 

“Wonderful,” she muttered, irritated as ever. “That bastard stumbles into my room, sweet talks me into a one night stand, and leaves me to clean up the mess.” After she had covered the bruise with a heavy amount of makeup, it was still rather obvious, but Emma decided it wasn’t worth the aggravation. She’d make up some lie to tell Mary Margaret.   
Walking down the hallway and into the kitchen, she heard laughter. Hoping David had made his famous blueberry pancakes, Emma bounded into the room, only to be greeted by a rather well-groomed Killian Jones in her midst. David noticed her first and laughed.

“Finally up, are we princess?” He called Emma that because he insisted she had been Sleeping Beauty in another life, on account of how much Emma liked to sleep. She pressed her lips together and forced a smile, but she could barely keep herself together as Killian turned around and laid his eyes on her. He seemed to be scrutinizing her. She felt naked under his gaze, vulnerable, and she didn’t particularly like it. 

“Where’s Mary Margaret?” she inquired, looking straight past Killian and pointedly addressing David. 

“Down to the store. We ran out of milk and no one wanted to face the wrath that is Emma Swan when she is denied her milk and pancakes.” David smiled, kissed Emma on the top of the head, and strode towards the bathroom. “Someone watch the pancakes while I’m showering, please!” And he was gone, leaving Emma alone. With Killian. 

Refusing to look at him, Emma stood dutifully beside the baking batter, watching the small air bubbles rise until it was time to flip. Killian shifted uncomfortable, cleared his throat, and scratched the back of his neck, but Emma didn’t give in. Finally, Killian approached her from behind, placing his hand at the small of her back.

“Emma, love, I-“

“I don’t need to hear it Killian. I get it, you were drunk. It’s not going to happen again, trust me. No worries.” Emma shut her eyes, willing them to stop watering. She would not cry in front of him. She would not. She knew how these things worked. She’d been through it before. With many other men. With Neal. This was how life was for her.

“That’s not what I-“

“I know, you didn’t intend to hurt me. And you didn’t. It didn’t mean anything.” She had to practically choke the words out. His hand moved away from her back and hung limply by his side. She turned around to see a very deflated-looking Killian. 

“Ah…well, I’m sorry to have bothered you Swan. I guess I should leave. Let you eat your breakfast in peace.” He shuffled to the door, head low. Emma couldn’t decide if his behavior was an act to make her feel sympathetic towards him or if it was actually genuine. She bit her lip, afraid she had hurt him. Afraid she had misjudged why he had left her, and afraid she could quite possibly be ruining a really great opportunity to be happy.

“Wait, Killian,” she ran over to him, closing the door he had just opened. “I’m sorry. I think…I think I just misread things. I have some bad memories waking up to an empty bed that was…not so empty the night before. I projected it onto this situation. Onto you. I’m sorry. Please don’t leave.”

It was as if she had filled him with all the air in the room. He stood straighter, his eyes began twinkling again, even his hair seemed to gain a bit of volume. He smiled down at her and pushed back a few strands of her hair before leaning down to kiss her. 

“If the lady insists,” he teased. “But just to set the record straight, I had to drag myself from your bed. I did not want to leave your side, love. But 1. I reeked of booze and 2. I did not think you wished to have David and Mary Margaret questioning you about us just yet. Whatever we are.” He tacked on the last bit with a rushed, nonchalant attitude. Emma smiled to herself, noting that he was also not trying to display too much weakness. 

“No, I do not wish that just yet. Thank you for being the sensible one.” He laughed.

“I don’t think I’ll ever hear those words come from your mouth again, Swan. Want to say that again for the camera?” Killian proceeded to pull out his phone and began recording her.  
“Say what?” She asked innocently. He kissed her again, this time a bit more hungrily, making sure the camera captured the moment. Emma pulled away from him suddenly.

“Do you smell that?” Emma sniffed and looked at Killian, confused.

“It smells like somethings burning,” he suggested.

“Shit! The pancakes!” Emma ran into the kitchen, but it was too late. She flipped all the pancakes over, but they were burned to a charcoal black on one side. “Shit, shit, shit. David is gonna kill me.”

“Not if I have any say in the matter,” Killian reassured her.

Emma saved the pancakes as best she could, laying them browned-side up. With Killian’s help, she laid out four dishes on the kitchen table along with butter and syrup. They cut up fruit and even managed to whip up some eggs before Mary Margaret arrived. 

“Wow. Looks like a five star restaurant in here!” She laid the milk on the counter and placed her coat on the chair. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold and her hair was neatly hidden under one of Mary Margaret’s numerous beanies. “Seems like Killian brings out the inner cook in you, Emma.”

Killian could not contain his amusement, but Emma scoffed, not wanting to encourage such thoughts. “Not likely.”

Just then David walked in, wrapped in a towel, hair wet from his shower. “Hello, m’lady,” he kissed Mary Margaret on the cheek. “Are we ready to eat?”

“Yes, of course!” Mary Margaret rushed to light a few candles (she’d never admit it, but she was a bit of a candle hoarder) and then everyone sat down and dug in. Emma found the meal rather enjoyable (despite the crispness underside of the pancakes) until the details of Killian’s sleeping arrangements for the previous night were brought into question. 

“So where did you end up crashing, Killian?” David inquired. “I came out in the middle of the night and you weren’t there. I thought you had left.” Emma’s heart dropped and she couldn’t make herself swallow the chunk of pineapple in her mouth. Her eyes darted to his, but he looked unaffected by the question.

“After indulging myself with Emma’s rather vile liquor at your lover’s request, I found myself wrapped around a toilet most of the night.” Everyone laughed and the moment passed. The tension in Emma’s body released and she swallowed. His smooth response impressed her. She’d have to remember to ask how he learned to lie so well.

Once everyone had their fill, Killian announced he had best be going. Emma tried to act casual, offering to see him out. Mary Margaret gave her a look, but it wasn’t questioning, more so encouraging. Once the pair had made it out of the apartment, Killian pinned Emma against the wall and smothered her in kisses. She was giggling and protesting that someone would catch them, but neither really cared. 

“Alright, alright, I surrender,” Emma laughed. “Shall I walk you to your car like a gentleman?” She teased.

“There would be nothing I liked more if I had a car,” Killian said. “Alas, I own a sea vessel, not a land one. If I can walk long distances, where’s the need?”

“So you got a boat instead of a car?” Emma tried her best not to sound judgmental.

“She’s a ship, but yes. One day, if you’re lucky, I may take you out on her.” He winked and kissed her again. “Promise you’ll answer when I call.”

“Promise you’ll call,” she countered.

He smiled and shook his head. “So stubborn,” he said affectionately. “Good afternoon Ms. Swan.”

“Good afternoon Mr. Jones.”

Watching him walk away was both painful and hopeful. Emma did not want him to go, but she knew that also meant she wanted to see him again.


	4. Diamonds and Blues

Everyone adapted to the pairing pretty fast. Mary Margaret and David took credit for Emma and Killian’s “thing” as Emma called it. She wasn’t ready for any long term commitments or labels just yet, or at least that’s what she told Killian.

Almost a week had passed since their first encounter and yet Emma could not recall a time when Killian was not in her life. They were in constant contact. Killian called her almost immediately after he left that morning, begging to see her as soon as her work would allow. They texted and face timed daily, wanting to hear about every facet of each other’s days. Mary Margaret teased that Emma would go through withdrawal if she had to spend even one day without seeing or communicating with Killian. Determined and stubborn as she was, Emma took the bet (much to Killian’s dismay). It was New Year’s Eve and they had 5 more hours before the party started and Emma was allowed to see him.

Sitting at her desk, nibbling on a chicken salad sandwich, Emma groaned. The clock seemed to be staring at her, taunting her. “This is ridiculous,” Emma thought. “I am pathetic. One week. All it took was one week and now I’m hooked on him. Great.”

Just then, a black Labrador/spaniel cross bounded into her office.

“Buckley?” Emma reached down to pet the friendly, hairy beast. “Where is he, huh? Do you know? Or did you just happen to find your way to the police station?”

A high-pitched whistle rang out and Emma slammed her eyes shut, wheeled her chair into a corner of the room, and clasped her hands over her ears.

“Okay stranger-I-refuse-to-see, please come collect your dog and be on your way. We don’t want anything you’re selling today.” Emma’s body was tense and she was clenching her jaw. She would not lose this bet.

“Is that so, sheriff? Not even if it’s 182 pounds of smoldering, handsome man?” His voice gave her goosebumps and made her eyelids flutter. But she refused to break. She wanted that $200 for Killian’s birthday gift. He would not get the best of her.

“Oh come on now Em-“

“Don’t! Don’t you dare…er, person.”

“This is silly,” Killian muttered under his breath. “I just wanted to say hello, and maybe kiss you a little during your lunch break. Mary Margaret would never know. And to give you this.” Emma heard him place something on her desk. Her curiosity grew but she refused to move.

“Alright, I’ll be on my way." Emma could tell he was pouting now. "But you are going to regret ignoring me, Swan. I never agreed to this absurdity. Come on Bucks Bucks.” She heard his footsteps (and the dog's) get farther and farther away, but she waited another minute or two to be sure he had really left.

Sensing that the coast was clear, Emma opened her eyes and returned to her desk, seeing a small black box placed right in the center. Feeling her anticipation rise, she opened the box to find a hand written note and a blue-green beaded necklace with a small, beautiful water drop diamond. In elegant (and somewhat illegible) handwriting, the note read:

Emma love, I saw this in a store window on Main Street and it reminded me of you- your eyes specifically. Blue-green like the sea, but also dazzling like diamonds. I cannot wait to see them tonight, as having to wait may be painful, but it makes it clear how much I admire your eyes (and perhaps you).  
Killian

P.S. I convinced Mary Margaret and David to spend the night at his place after the party tonight. I told them they would not get much rest if they were to stay in an apartment with us. Don’t make me out to be a liar.

The clock ticked even slower.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Emma could not decide what to wear. Killian’s note had made her nervous and excited and totally incapable of making coherent decisions. She was on her fifth outfit so far but nothing seemed right. She wanted to make Killian eat his words and lose his breath all at the same time.

“Emma, please, we’re going to be late!” Mary Margaret pushed the door open to Emma’s room. Royal-looking as ever, Mary Margaret was dressed in a floral pantsuit with a golden-braided headband. “What’s taking so long?”

“I can’t decide what to wear!” Emma fell onto her bed, exhausted from staring at her reflection for so long.

“What you have on is fine. What’s the big deal? I’ve never seen you act so girly before.” Mary Margaret chuckled and sat next to her.

“Look.” Emma handed her the note and the necklace.

“Oh my gosh, Emma! If you don’t marry this man I will. Don’t tell David I said that.”

“Exactly. So now I’m stuck arriving at a party where he has me tongue tied and entirely head over heels. I need something to even the playing field. That why I need to look good. Better than good.” She sighed.

“I think I may have something. I bought it a while ago on an impulse but it’s not really me. Too revealing. Let me go get it.” Mary Margaret returned with a shimmering blue dress. Emma slid into it and analyzed herself in the mirror. “Oh my goodness,” Mary Margaret whispered.

The plunging neckline stopped right in the center of Emma’s breasts. Being a lace overlay maxi dress, Emma’s legs were extremely visible, but in an elegant nature. The waist pulled in just above her hips, accentuating her curves. And with Emma’s black stiletto heels it fell perfectly around her ankles.

“The final touch,” Emma smiled as she clasped the necklace around her neck. “It’s perfect Mary Margaret. Thank you.”

“Emma…no one will not be able to stare at you.”

Emma smirked. “That’s the plan.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

David arrived to pick Mary Margaret and Emma up around 9. Unsurprisingly, he was left speechless when seeing Emma. He stammered through about 5 or so compliments for Mary Margaret while she teased that perhaps he was dating the wrong roommate. Then they were off.

Jefferson was no doubt the richest and most well-respected man in Storybrooke. His New Year’s parties were all the rage and getting an invite was harder than winning the lottery (which ironically is how he came into all his money in the first place). This was Emma’s fifth invite and first attendance. Killian had been the one to convince her to go.

“Why not? It’ll be fun,” he had said with a yawn. They hadn’t done much sleeping the night before…

“I don’t know. I’ve just never gone to one. Plus Jefferson is notorious for sleeping around. I didn’t want to fend him off for an entire night.”

“Well if you have me on your arm you need not worry about that.” Killian grinned at her, making her insides melt.

“Mmm maybe not, but he’s persistent.”

“He’s not the only one.” Killian kissed Emma and the conversation was over.

“Of course I would go if he wanted to,” Emma thought, thinking back to that tender moment. “That’s what girlfri-friends do for one another.”

The car came to a stop. “We’re here!” David announced. “3…2…1! You did it Emma. You won the bet.” He grinned at her from the rear view mirror. “You ready to see Killian, Sleeping Beauty?”

She couldn’t help it- she grinned back. “More than you know,” Emma replied.


	5. Chapter 5

Lit up with hundreds of tiny, twinkling lights, Jefferson’s mansion glowed in the night. For December, the weather was somewhat decent, allowing Emma to gawk in the driveway for at least a minute or two before she really felt the cold. The landscaping was magnificent. Trees and shrubberies lined the walls and had a dewy look to them, making the scene feel that much more magical. The sky was clear of any clouds or fog. Stars peaked through the darkness, illuminating and dazzling all who were beneath them. Emma felt a hand grasp hers.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Mary Margaret squeezed softly, smiling and leaning her head on Emma’s shoulder.

“Mhm,” Emma replied softly, placing her head on top of hers. Short-lived, the moment had to pass, but as Emma walked up the steps and into the house, she vowed to never forget how truly blessed she was to have such a wonderful friend.

An indoor waterfall greeted them beyond the door. Emma had to give it to Jefferson- he had style. Paintings lined the walls along with exotic tapestries and collectables. The furniture was all black- from leather couches to (faux?) fur rugs, the place was made to be admired. 

People were everywhere. Girls in slim cocktail dresses and prom-like getups sauntered from room to room laughing and dancing while the men clustered around the bars (yes, bars- Emma could tell that there were at least 3 or 4 of them). 

“Damn,” David muttered. “You’d think there’d be one thing to criticize about this party.”

“There is,” Emma grumbled. “I don’t see Killian anywhere.” She had been checking her phone waiting for him to disclose his location, but no such text had been made.  
“Killy-who?” Jefferson smirked at Emma, handing her a rather full glass of red wine. He was dressed elegantly in a classic black and white suit with a matching top hat that (on anyone else) would look ridiculous, but on him seemed classy. Go figure. 

“Killian Jones.” Emma corrected him with a polite smile. “My date.” She made a point to emphasize the “date” part.

“Ah, haven’t seen him, I’m afraid. But I’d gladly fulfill his dately duties and spin you around the dancefloor once…or twice.” Emma groaned internally. Glancing around for an escape, she saw Mary Margaret and David had migrated over to a bar where Graham (Emma’s deputy) was seated. Excusing herself as graciously as she could, Emma practically ran to their little group.  
“Jefferson putting the moves on ya, eh Emma?” Graham and David chuckled, raised their glasses, and chugged.

“Oh, Graham, I just remembered, I have a scheduled hangover on Monday morning, so I’m going to need you to come in early. Say around 3am?” 

He shook his head and took a shot in response. “If you want to play it that way Sheriff I suppose I won’t tell ya where your handsome not-boyfriend is.”

Emma tried not to give him a reaction, but her poker face never was that strong around Graham. He had instincts like a wolf.

“Alright, you win. No Monday morning shift. Now where’s Killian?” She tapped her foot impatiently, going for the angry-mom vibe.

Graham grinned. “Outside by the DJ, on the right-hand side of the pool. If you pass the hot tub you’ve gone too far.” Emma started towards the backyard. “Oh and Emma? You look delicious.” He laughed and Mary Margaret slapped him playfully. Blushing and giggling, Emma made her way through the room to the patio leading out to the pool. 

She spotted him sitting at a candlelit table with a few people she had never met before. But somehow, as if he could sense her presence, Killian’s head turned and his eyes met hers almost instantly. 

As gracefully as she could, and very aware of his eyes on her, Emma floated down the steps. Looking back up at him, Killian was standing now, seemingly forgetting he was mid-conversation with his friends. His eyes were wide and his jaw was a little slack, which for Killian Jones’ standards was positively unheard of. Emma made it about halfway to him when he remembered that he had feet of his own and covered the rest of the distance.

“Something catch you off-guard sailor?” Emma said, light and flirtatious. She looked at him through her long lashes, somewhat subconsciously biting her lower lip.  
“Well worth the wait,” Killian whispered, brushing the back of his hand across her cheek. She smiled and leaned into his touch, appreciating how soft and smooth his skin was. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” Emma responded, smiling, hazy from his touch. “You almost made me lose,” she added.

“Aye, but it was worth it.” He touched the necklace and smiled, looking back into her eyes. “Beautiful.”

“It is. Thank you.” Killian chuckled and kissed her lightly, her whole body reacting with an intense, deep burning. She pressed her body against his, needing more contact.  
“How much longer must we stay here?” Killian whispered, apparently having a very similar reaction. He pulled back to survey her again, licking his lips as he did so. “Bloody beautiful,” he shook his head and smiled at her.

She blushed. “We stay at least until the ball drops.” Emma found that she liked the anticipation she felt from waiting. Killian pouted but did not argue.

“Did I mention that you are the most stunning, radiant woman I have ever laid eyes on?” She buried her head into his chest, hiding her smile. “I mean it, Emma. The dress and the shoes are lovely, but what makes them really shine is you. I’d be rather pleased to take them off of you to be quite honest. Mmm…maybe keep the heels on.” Emma was thankful that she was leaning against him, because she didn’t remember how her legs worked in that moment. 

With as much poise as she could gather she responded, “Well, we’ll just have to see how long a sailor can hold out, won’t we?” She secretly loved referencing his love of his ship and the sea. It always made his responses sexier, if that was possible.

He grinned in response and kissed the back of her hand. “I’ve been holding out for you my whole life, albeit unbeknownst to me, but you get the picture. I’d wait for you, Emma, for a very, very long time. Perhaps until the sun exploded and all the seas dried up.” She giggled, enjoying his little proclamation of…whatever it was. “Just please keep in mind a man may find waiting all sorts of painful.” 

“I will,” She promised, kissing him. He kissed back, but Emma could tell he was struggling to keep it PG. Sparing him from the torture, she pulled away first. “Shall we rejoin your friends?” 

“Whatever you want, love. I’m not leaving your side for the rest of the night.” Just then, David appeared, slapping Killian on the back and yelling about some crazy fight that had gone on inside. Emma wasn’t really listening, hoping that Sheriff Swan wouldn’t be needed tonight of all nights. Mary Margaret, who had been dutifully babying her already-plastered boyfriend, pulled Emma to the side. The moment she was no longer touching Killian she felt drained. “So much for not leaving each other’s sides,” she thought. 

“Emma- it was Graham. He saw that Jefferson was trying to follow you out and…well, you know what happens to people who argue with Jefferson. He egged him on and Graham swung first. He got booted from the party.”

Sighing, Emma had Mary Margaret lead the way to Jefferson. David would fill Killian in. She had to be sure Jefferson wouldn’t press charges against her naïve, stupid, gullible deputy.

Jefferson was standing in the center of the room, surrounded by his adoring fan club. Emma tried not to scoff at the girl twirling her fingers around his hair, but it was quite a sight. She made her way to him after a fair amount of pushing.

“Emma my dear, come to assess the damages?” Jefferson seemed to have a small bruise on the left side of his jaw. 

“I’m so sorry. He’s an impulsive bastard, but he’s good at his job.”

“If you say so. Seemed more like a protective lover than anything else.”

Emma forced a laugh. “Protective of his friend and his boss, yes. He’s extremely loyal.”

Jefferson leaned in, pressing his mouth right up against her ear. “Seems like many men around Storybrook are loyal to you, Emma. I’d like to be loyal to you, too, in oh so many ways.”

Just as she was about to shove him, Killian appeared. “Jefferson,” He spoke coldly, fists clenched and mouth drawn tight.

“Ah, Jones, so you have been found. I was just having a lovely chat with your dear pal here.” He raised his eyebrows at Emma.

Emma was feeling heat rise to her face. She knew Killian was tense and was terrified he would do something to make the situation worse. “Right, so you won’t press charges against Graham?” 

“No, your pup is safe. Not worth my time. I have much more…pleasurable things to focus my attention on.” He eyed Emma’s cleavage and smirked.

Killian stepped towards Jefferson, and Emma could practically see the steam rise from his head. “Are you mad, mate? I’m right here.”

Jefferson’s smirk grew wider. “We’re all mad here, aren’t we?” And with a bow to Emma and a lick of the lips to Killian, he was gone. 

“Killian?” Emma looked into his eyes and saw how hard he was fighting for control of his emotions. Grabbing his arm, she led him to the bathroom, sat him down and locked the door. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” he muttered, rubbing his face. “That bastard knows how to get under your skin.”

“You know I would never be with an ass like that. You don’t have to worry. He wanted to aggravate you, that’s it.”

“The way he looked at you like you wear a piece of meat or something…I just can’t fathom how anyone could be so disrespectful.” Emma moved to him and tilted his head up, forcing him to look at her.

“It’s done with. Try not to obsess over it. I’m fine. We’re fine. That’s what matters.” He smiled sadly at her.

“I suppose you are right, as usual, Swan.” 

“Hey, I know what’ll cheer you up.” Emma smiled down at him, placing her hands on either side of his face. She massaged softly, appreciating for the millionth time how soft and thick his hair was. He sighed happily, closing his eyes. Seeing him so relaxed was a relief. She leaned down and kissed him, and he kissed back, gently at first. But then Emma was pushed against the wall by his muscular arms and attacked by his lips. He ventured all over her exposed skin with his tongue, teasing with his teeth and pulling Emma apart by the seams. She was moaning with every lick or kiss he made. 

“Too much, Ms. Swan?” Killian growled, low and playful.

Emma would not succumb to his charm just yet. She grabbed him by the collar and pulled him to her lips, delivering a slow and oh-so-painfully pleasing kiss that practically knocked him on his ass. When she finally released him, his breathing was heavy and he shook his head to clear it. Meanwhile, Emma had already re-zipped her dress and was checking her hair in the mirror.

“Going somewhere?” Killian asked.

“Yes, back to the party,” She looked back at him and smiled. “You’re welcome to join me.” And with that, Emma opened the door and walked back into the party, knowing all the while Killian was watching her. She swung her hips as naturally as possible, hoping to make him squirm.

He ran after her, entwining their fingers and kissing her forehead when he caught up. They found David and Mary Margaret and mingled with their friends. The conversation was light and natural. Drinks and laughs and more drinks were shared, old stories were told and retold. Not until the countdown had begun did Emma notice just how gone they all were.

“10-9-8,” Everyone was screaming, and Emma seemed to have lost Killian. She remembered him going to the bar for more drinks, but he hadn’t returned.

“5-4,” She searched, a bit frantic now, desperately trying to pinpoint where he was.

“3-2-1, HAPPY NEW YEARS!” Just as the ball dropped and confetti poured from the ceiling, she was spun around to see her devilishly handsome date.  
“I thought you had ditched me for a prettier broad,” She joked.

“Eh, I thought about it, but I figured I should do the honorable thing and see this date through.” They both laughed and he kissed her, picking her up by the waist and twirling her. Emma was light headed and giddy and extremely intoxicated, but she felt content to stay in his arms indefinitely.

Killian placed her back on the ground, chuckling. “I’m surprised I still had the sobriety to do that.”

“Oh you sure as hell didn’t,” Emma teased. 

“So….can we go back now? Or do you plan on making me suffer for another hour?”

Emma bit her lip and tapped her foot. “Hm, I don’t know. We’re having so much fun here babe. Why leave now? What’s another hour…or three?”

“Swan, if we don’t leave right now I may never make it home. And then you will miss out on all of this.” Killian wiggled his hips and stuck out his tongue. Emma choked on her drink.

“Okay, okay, I’ll call a taxi. Keep your pants on.”

“Well that’ll be hard to do with all the sex-“ Emma put her hand over his mouth, giggling and shushing him. She called a taxi and they said their goodbyes, making plans with Mary Margaret and David for a hangover-brunch at Granny’s. 

As they waited outside on the porch for their ride, Emma shivered. The night had grown cold while they had all been slowly poisoning their livers inside. Killian instinctively shrugged off his coat and placed it over her shoulders. 

“Thank you,” Emma said, teeth still chattering.

“Of course, love.” He kissed her nose and began belting “99 bottles of rum on the wall.” Emma hummed along until the taxi arrived. Leaning on each other, they staggered their way to the car. 

The driver was polite enough, but obviously had grown tired of driving drunk people around all night. Killian refused to stop singing his song, and Emma could not help but giggle at him. They arrived at her apartment and tipped the driver (quite graciously- Killian was beyond the ability of counting and consequently threw 3 or 4 twenty dollar bills at the poor man). 

“Finally alone,” he said, grabbing Emma’s face with his hand and kissing her. Stumbling and kissing their way up the stairs drunk was no easy feat, but somehow they made it to her door. 

“Killian,” Emma mumbled against his eager lips. “I can’t find my keys while you’re attacking my face with your tongue.” He laughed and moved to her neck, which Emma found almost more distracting. The graze of his teeth, sucking and pulling…she dug through her purse faster, hand finally emerging from its depths with her Friends lanyard, key attached. 

Turning away from Killian, she made three attempts before successfully opening the door, distracted by his body pushing against hers. She could feel his erection against her backside, making her face flush with anticipation.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, nibbling her ear as they both stepped into the dark room. 

“Ready for your New Year’s gift, sailor?” Emma raised her eyebrows at him, enjoying the questioning look on his face.  
“You didn’t have to get me anything, Emma.”

“I know. This is more for…both of us. Hold on.” She walked down the hallway to her bedroom and returned 5 minutes later. Killian was sitting on the couch, nursing a beer with his back to her. She snuck up behind him and put her hands over his eyes. 

“Don’t peak,” She cautioned. She felt him smile and nod, and then walked around the couch to face him. Taking a deep breath, she said, “Alright, you can open ‘em.”

Killian opened his eyes and his breath caught in his throat. Emma was dressed in a two piece sailor’s uniform, hat and all. Her stomach was exposed, as were both of her legs. 

Really the only things covered where her breasts and her crotch. Swinging a whip in her right hand, her demeanor screamed “fuck me.”

“Well?” She had grown nervous- Killian hadn’t spoken for several minutes. His eyes kept sweeping over her, but his lips were still.

He swallowed and a smile crept onto his face. “Are you refusing my orders, sailor?” The tension in Emma’s body disappeared and she mentally high-fived herself. 

“Yes, sir. I am.” She giggled, failing to contain herself.

“Insubordinate and funny talk?” Killian stood and walked to Emma, circling her slowly, hand trailing around her waist. “You’re not going to be laughing when I’m done with you. 

Know what you’ll be doing? Hm?” Emma shook her head, biting her lip from smiling. “You’ll be screaming, love. My name, specifically.”

Emma smiled and Killian slapped her ass in response, softly but swiftly. Emma gasped, loving the exhilaration. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “You’re in for it now, Swan.”


End file.
